


if the tears fall down like rain

by spinningincircles



Series: drabbles [10]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Prompt Fill, Soft Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:08:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25959550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinningincircles/pseuds/spinningincircles
Summary: Sometimes it’s all just too much.Eddie brings it up to Frank, when he finally starts seeing him regularly, and he suggests in that calm but serious voice, “Have you thought about making a playlist?”
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Series: drabbles [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1765609
Comments: 9
Kudos: 130





	if the tears fall down like rain

**Author's Note:**

> for the sensory prompt: exhausted numbness after crying
> 
> originally posted [here](https://tylerhunklin.tumblr.com/post/626660048171646976/not-sure-if-youre-taking-multiple-prompts-but-7)
> 
> title from "let her cry" by hootie & the blowfish

Sometimes it’s all just too much. 

For years, Eddie has no idea what to do when he feels so sad he couldn’t even keep up a polite conversation, or when he’s so overwhelmed with emotion he feels like crying in the middle of the cereal aisle. The only thing he _knows_ how to do is push it down and hold it in until eventually it goes away on its own. It doesn’t feel good, but he also doesn’t burst into tears when he sees they’re out of Frosted Flakes, so he takes it as a win.

He brings it up to Frank, when he finally starts seeing him regularly, and he suggests in that calm but serious voice, “Have you thought about making a playlist?”

Eddie’s eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. “A sad playlist?”

Frank nods. “It can be cathartic, listening to music that evokes a sad or melancholic response from you. You can process your feelings while listening and, hopefully, feel some sense of relief afterwards.”

It makes sense, Eddie thinks, but it’s also the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. He just nods at Frank, though, promising he’ll consider it. He doubts he’ll give it much thought once he leaves Frank’s office.

Three days later, he’s staring listlessly at the TV while Chris is at school, and he makes the playlist because it’s the only thing he can make his brain concentrate on.

The following week, his brain is churning and churning at 1:30am with all of the horrible things he’s inflicted on himself and his family, so he plugs in his headphones, pulls up the playlist, and hits “Shuffle”.

He’s crying after five songs. After he cycles through the whole thing, he’s tired and his body kind of hurts, but he feels _lighter._ Better. He falls asleep and almost sleeps through his alarm, no dreams, his brain finally calm.

So he keeps using the playlist. It stops feeling so ridiculous after a while.

Sometimes he can listen to it with no outward reaction. It just makes him contemplative, dealing with everything internally, but _dealing with them._ Sometimes it takes a few songs to make him feel better, sometimes it doesn’t happen until the very end of the playlist.

And sometimes he’s curled up on the couch, living room dark, almost through his second replay of the list, and he can’t stop crying. He’ll think he’s done, but then the next song will play, and a new terrible thought will enter his brain, and it starts all over again.

He jumps when he feels arms wrap around him, relaxing instantly once he smells the familiar cologne. He hadn’t heard Buck open the door, music getting louder and louder as he fell deeper and deeper, but he’s never been more relieved to have him here. Buck doesn’t say anything, just lets Eddie press his damp face into his neck and holds him tighter as he cries.

Three and a half times through does the trick. Buck doesn’t move the whole time, just rubs his hands up and down Eddie’s back, presses kisses into his hairline, lets him _be._ Eddie stops the music, pulls his earbuds out, and Buck hands him a tissue. He blows his nose, wipes his face, and he feels _better._ Exhausted, but better. Buck must sense how drained he is, because he still doesn’t say a word — doesn’t mention that they were supposed to try the new sushi place that just opened, or remind him that they have to pick up Chris from Hen’s in the morning — just positions them until their facing the TV, Eddie’s head on his chest, a rerun of _Friends_ that they’ve seen a thousand times playing on low. 

Eddie kisses Buck’s chest, right above his heart, whispers, “Thank you”, and drifts off, feeling lighter and cared for and safe.

**Author's Note:**

> come prompt me on [tumblr](https://tylerhunklin.tumblr.com/)!


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